Insomnia
by x-Athenea-x
Summary: Blake can't sleep and his mind wanders ...


Blake lay awake in bed, his eyes firmly fixated on the shadows on the ceiling. Ted was sleeping peacefully beside him, occasionally letting out a loud snore and sniffle. Usually they would be out clubbing at this time of night - it was after all Saturday night - but Ted had come down with a bad cold and Blake had offered to take care of him. He did all the things he was suppose to do: make him chicken soup, bring him tissues and hot teas, clean up his place and at around 11 PM, he had ushered him to bed. After a long day of work, Blake was absolutely wiped out. So he lay down beside him, cherishing the mumbled pillow talk coming from his drowsy lover. He watched Ted drift off and stroke his hair until he was fast asleep.

He sighed contently, secretly enjoying the fact that he got to take care of Ted for once, laid down on his back and closed his eyes. He waited for the sandman to come … and waited … and waited. And then, he waited some more.

Throughout the night, he drifted in and out of sleep, but he never got a good full hour of sleep. Frustrated, he gave up at around 6 AM. The first rays of sunshine illuminated the apartment. For some weird reason it filled him with hope and a new zest for life. A big contrast with the heavy blackness that he had just gone through. No one said recovering from an addiction was easy. Ted helped, his steady hand on his shoulder often was enough to remind him of what, where, how and why. But often, he just felt lost, confused and out of his depth.

He tiptoed barefoot on the cold wooden floor out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He decided to make himself a cup of tea – as silently as possible which isn't too easy considering how _noisy_everything was at 6 AM in the morning. He cursed at every _clang!_Or _thud!_he made but finally he was well on his way to that perfect cuppa. He leant up against the kitchen counter and waited for the high-pitched whistle of the kettle. He looked around the room and proudly thought he did an okay job on cleaning the kitchen. It was tidy, organised and smelled lovely. Next to him was a bowl of fruit and he quietly chuckled as he placed two oranges at the base of a big banana. _'I wonder if Ted will notice'_he thought to himself.

He made his cup of tea and decided to go sit on the window sill to watch the sun rise. He gently sipped his tea and enjoyed the hot liquid warming him from the inside. The sun was shining brightly against his naked torso, as if the sunrays were dancing against his skin. He looked outside and watched the city awake.

The milkman was the first one to pass as he placed milk bottles at the door of every customer, a lone dog wandered the streets as a lot of things on his way, the postman dropped off letters and packages to hopeful neighbours and then suddenly, two people caught his eye.

An elderly woman walked past the baker and in one hand she had a cane that supported her, on the other she affectionately held the hand of an elderly man. Side by side, the walked – slowly – across the street. He watched go into the shop, sit down at the little table by the window and enjoy their coffee.

He must've just sat by the window for a good hour as he watched the elderly couple just have their breakfast. He couldn't make out what they were saying but he was genuinely moved by the apparent affection and love that still existed between them. He felt a tear run down his cheek but didn't bother to wipe it off. The sight filled him with a bittersweet sadness and melancholy that he had rarely felt before.

He wondered if he could ever be so lucky to have that. To even survive to their age and still be with the same person. He wondered of he could kick the habit and actually start a regular life. He wondered if … he was worth loving for so long. He wondered if Ted would be able to put up with him for so many years.

He wanted what he saw. He wanted that more than anything. A place to call his own, a hand to hold his, a soulmate to live with. Safety. Warmth. Love. Despite feeling secure and loved in his relationship with Ted, there was always this nagging question in the back of his mind. _Is today the day that Ted will get sick of me and leave?_

Suddenly he felt two strong arms wrap around his waist and as if by instinct, he relaxed into the touch. His back perfectly fit against Ted's chest. A kiss near the ear and a husky 'morning angel' was enough to make him smile. 'Morning,' Blake replied. 'Did you sleep well?'

'Mmm' Ted mumbled as he nuzzled against Blake's neck. 'Missed you'

'Ted?' Blake asked.

Another muzzled 'mmmm' from Ted.

'You know that I love you, right?' Blake said with a shaking voice. 'And I'd do anything for you.'

Ted reached for Blake's hands and let their fingers entwine. 'I do, I can feel it.' A little kiss on Blake's shoulder. 'And I love you too.'

Blake let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and relaxed a little bit more.

'By the way,' Ted smirked. 'I thought the oranges were a bit big so I exchanged them with plums. You know … proportion and all that.'


End file.
